


Be a Good Girl

by adolescence



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Rhys, But fuck that, Daddy Kink, Desk Sex, Hair-pulling, I should be sleeping, Light Ass Smacking Because Why Not, M/M, Office Sex, Rough Sex, Top Jack, here you go sinners have some gay sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 20:32:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8504413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adolescence/pseuds/adolescence
Summary: Handsome Jack and Rhys break for some sexcapades in Jack's office. Rhys is just so damn fuckable.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fic for anything Borderlands. I fucking love the relationship between Jack and Rhys and didn't even know this was, like, a _thing_ until not too long ago. Where has this ship been all my life?! The endearments. . . god, they slay me.

"You gonna be a good girl for Daddy, Pumpkin?"

 

Rhys' cheeks were bright red, the epitome of embarrassment. What was he doing? God, he knew he'd always kind of been a fanboy when it came to things like this, but goddamn. This was-. This was a whole other level of messed up that Rhys wasn't so sure he wanted to be apart of. But, of course, it only took him looking up at Jack and his half-lidded gaze and his smirk to not really give a fuck.

 

They were in Jack's office. Rhys had complained before about the window, the one that took up almost an entire section of the room, and how it made him feel a little more exposed than he'd like. Jack didn't seem to mind it, not one bit, and it only brought him more pleasure by Rhys' obvious discomfort. Jack had Rhys bent over his desk, belt laying a few mere inches away from where Rhys' cheek was pressed against the cool surface, and his pants pooled in a heap of fabric at his ankles. God, had it dropped a few degrees in there? Surely it had. Rhys was shivering and it couldn't have just been from Jack being there - or maybe it could, but Rhys wasn't about to concede. He felt like a newborn skag, the way his legs were quivering under him. He could tell by the predatory look in Jack's eyes that he wasn't the only one that noticed.

 

"When someone asks something, it's usually pretty customary that someone answer," Jack's voice was too nice and it set Rhys on edge. His fingernails were digging into the furniture beneath him. "So, what's it gonna be, Cupcake? You wanna play this game or do you wanna go ahead and answer Daddy's question?"

 

A sharp smack on the ass jump-started Rhys' response. "Yes!" He practically yipped, which did nothing to settle the fluttery feeling in his stomach, or the deepening blush on his cheeks. "God, yeah- yes. I'll be good."

 

This side of. . . whatever the hell this was, it was still new to Rhys, scarily new. Jack seemed to slip right into the role, though, which made him wonder if this was just him. If he had to switch between this or that, or if he just was. It was probably the latter. Rhys knows that it wouldn't be much of a stretch from his usual persona. All that to say that Jack was going easy on him - surprisingly - because this was so new and shiny to him.

 

"That's my girl." Jack praised, now directly behind Rhys. His breath hitched as he felt the older man press his pant-clad groin into Rhys' ass, feeling hands grasp his hips in two firm handfuls. "So pretty like this, you know," Jack purred, giving Rhys' hips a nice squeeze, Rhys' embarrassment be damned. "Should ask you to do this more often, huh, Cupcake?"

 

"D-Daddy. . ." Rhys whined, wriggling his hips. The little name was still new, not used to rolling off his tongue. But judging by what Jack was packing, and pressing so incessantly into Rhys' rear, it sounded natural enough. Or perhaps Jack was still too caught up in the thick of it to really notice the hesitance in his voice.

 

"What do you want, Pumpkin? Use your words," One of Jack's hands slid up the column of Rhys' back, fingers moving with the bumps of his spine. "Tell Daddy what you want and he might just be so inclined to give it to you. He's been feeling rather generous today, wouldn't you say?"

 

Fuck me was on the tip of Rhys' tongue. He was hard and leaking, the underside of his cock against Jack's desk, precome dripping and pooling onto the surface. Rhys could feel it every time he'd shift his hips, balance his weight from one foot to the other. Jack having him like this, it was freaking hot. On numerous levels. Some of which even his cybernetics were having trouble picking up. He worried they might get caught like this, but he knew logically that wouldn't happen. Jack might be cocky, but he was always more safe than sorry. And besides, every time he thought about it, it sent this heat down his body, low in his belly. With all of the blood rushing to his aching cock, it was a wonder he could think coherently at all. He should be a mess at this point, but Jack hadn't even gotten a finger inside of him.

 

"I need you to-" Rhys stopped, biting the inside of his cheek.

 

"C'mon, don't leave me high and dry. The anticipation's killing me here, sweetheart."

 

"Need you-"

 

"Yes?"

 

"Just need you to fuck me, alright?!" Rhys winced after what he'd said, expecting a good swat on his ass, maybe two for good measure. None came. "Thought you said you were gonna be a good girl. Where'd that go?" Jack's tone was overly sweet, leaving Rhys trembling. He relaxed just in time for fingers to thread through his hair and pull his head back, angling his neck uncomfortably. "Ah-!" He cried.

 

"Ask me nicely and I might just let that attitude slip go," His voice was dangerously low, rasping against the shell of the younger man's ear. He pulled back, releasing the grip on his hair and letting his face fall back to the desk - earning a small whimper from Rhys - and chuckled. "You know what? Beg. I wanna hear you beg for it. Then maybe I'll give you what you need."

 

Jack really was one sadistic son of a bitch.

 

"Daddy," There that name was again, but this time it came out of Rhys' mouth surprisingly smooth. Not perfect, but better. Rhys moved his hips again, dying for some friction anywhere, just for them to be stilled by Jack's firm grip. The longer he waited for Rhys to say anything, the more bruising and impatient the grip became. "Daddy, pl-lease. I need you to fuck me," He begged. Fuck, his cock was a sopping mess by now, his hips arching against the preset of restraints Jack's hands offered. "Need you to open me up, want you to take me right here. On this desk. Please. Please, Daddy. I need it. I want it." Once he got started, it was like he couldn't stop. He'd never begged a man to fuck him before, but here he was. Doing it anyway. Begging Jack to fuck him senseless over his desk. But fuck if that wasn't exactly what he wanted right here right now.

 

"Oh, that's it, Cupcake," Jack crooned. "That's just what Daddy likes to hear." The grip at his hips disappeared and there was the click of a bottle opening. It wasn't much later that Rhys felt a slick, warm finger prodding his ass, one hand spread his cheeks while the other - lubed - finger was finally pressing against his hole. Rhys gasped, fingers flexing and splaying over the desk for some sort of purchase he just wasn't finding. Jack's finger pushed at his rim. Rhys was way too tense. "Gotta relax for me, sweetheart, or this ain't gonna work. Ah, there we go. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

 

Rhys inhaled sharply at the intrusion, Jack sliding one lube slick finger inside of him. He pulled back, pushed forward. Over and over. This was far from the first time Jack's had his hands anywhere near his ass, but it felt odd in the beginning every time. Nothing that a second finger couldn't fix. Because once Jack would start scissoring him open, really working those fingers of his- fuck. That's when Rhys would really start to enjoy it. Let loose and just let Jack have at him. Because, at that point, whenever he barely knew up from down, who cares about anything else?

 

It wasn't long before Jack was merciful enough to add a second finger and start that scissoring thing he does so well. Rhys' entire body felt like it was on fire, pleasure licking at him inside and out. Jack crooked his fingers inside of him just right, hitting that sweet - that oh so sweet - spot inside of him. He was already dripping sweat, dripping come. God, he wasn't sure how much longer he was going to be able to last like this.

 

"Always so sensitive, Rhysie," Jack cooed, twisting his fingers. "Bet you're hot all over, huh? Aching for Daddy's cock? Want me to fill you up, sweetheart?"

 

"God- fuck, yes. Please," Rhys managed.

 

A couple of good trusts from Jack's fingers later, Rhys was hearing the clicking of Jack's belt, the thud of it dropping to the floor, then the blissful unzipping sound. _Soon_.

 

The fat head of Jack's cock pressed insistently on his wet, puffy hole. ' _Daddy_ 's were falling from Rhys' desperate lips. A demanding grip was on his hip, and as much as Rhys wanted to, he didn't buck back onto Jack's cock. Not only because one, he was scared because Jack was- well, he was pretty damn thick, though he'd probably never admit any of that aloud, and two, Jack would probably make this whole experience even more excruciating if he did. So he kept his hips still as much as he could, but no one could really fault him for the involuntary twitches, now could they? Especially if that just went to show how eager he was for it.

 

"Mm, fuck," Jack ground out, pushing forward into Rhys' tight heat. It was fucking insane how amazing it felt in a vice-like grip like that. "That's just- mm, so hot, Cupcake, and all for me. All mine."

 

Jack bottomed out and Rhys moaned, the full feeling of Jack's thick cock inside of him evoking a shudder and wounded whine. Despite Jack being one of the most impatient and self serving men Rhys had ever had the misfortune - _and pleasure_ \- of meeting, he was kind enough to let Rhys adjust before he began moving.

 

"Move, move, please. Jack. I'm ready. Need you to fuck me," He was practically crawling out of his skin with the need to be thoroughly fucked.

 

Rhys could almost hear the smirk in Jack's voice. "How do you want it, Pumpkin? Soft and sweet or-"

 

"Raw," Rhys ground out, bucking his hips for extra emphasis.

 

" _Oh_ ," Jack crooned, hips pulling back some and grunting as he did so. Rhys' hips were already aching to arch back, hating the loss. "Little Rhysie wants it rough, huh?"

 

" _Jack_." He whined in frustration.

 

"Okay, kitten. Put the claws away."

 

The head of Jack's cock caught on the rim before he was kind enough to push back in, making Rhys take him all the way to the hilt. It started off slow at first, but was by no means soft. The movements of his hips were controlled and smooth in their own way, but punishing and bruising like the grip he had on Rhys' hips, fingers digging into the tender flesh there. His cock would fill Rhys up, then leave him nearly empty and moaning the loss, right before he'd fill him up again and knock the breath right out of his lungs. The pace picked up and up until it was brutal, merciless. Until Rhys was sure to have bruises on the peak of his hips from where they rammed into the edge of the desk. Until Jack was panting over him, muttering filthy nothings. Until Rhys was a wrecked fucking mess, beads of sweat running down the curve of his spine, his words reduced to Jack, and Daddy, and fuck.

 

Holy fucking Helios.

 

It wasn't until Jack jerked Rhys' head back by a fistful of hair that he even remembered they were in Jack's office. Jack was right there, at his ear, hot breath tickling him. "Such a good girl, cupcake. My good girl, ain't that right? Taking Daddy's cock like a fucking champ. Oh, god! That's it. So good. So damn good, Pumpkin."

 

Rhys didn't even have the sense to be embarrassed when the wet noises reached his ears. Fuck. He was a sloppy mess. Jack fucking into him, just absolutely pounding into his ass. Stretching him. His cock was still leaking, the shift in position and in his hips making it land and pool in the floor instead of drool on the desk like it was. He was so hard it freaking hurt, his body quaking with need and his legs trembling, his entire body just aching for release with each fuck of Jack's relentless hips. There was another tug on the fistful of hair Jack still had, a sharp pain blooming over his sensitive throat as Jack bit down, determined to leave marks on his good girl's pretty little throat.

 

Heat pool in Rhys' groin, coiling, tempting him over that blissful edge. God fucking- he needed to come. He needed to come so fucking bad.

 

"Jack- fuck, I need. I need to- 'm so close!" Rhys almost sobbed, entire body wracked with pleasure.

 

"S'okay, kitten. Daddy's got you," Jack's voice was husky, thick with desire. If the fervent way he pounded into Rhys told him anything, it was that he wasn't the only one teetering over that edge. "Come, baby."

 

By command or not, Rhys was going to come, and when he did he cried out something that sounded like a hoarse, "Daddy!" just coming then and there, into the floor, against the side of Jack's desk, thick white pulse after pulse until he was spent. But his head and body were still swimming in the aftermath, vaguely aware of the final, sharp thrust of Jack's hips. Jack came with a shout, nestling his way as deep into Rhys as he could get as he did, filling his good girl up to the brim.

 

They both rode out their orgasms, Rhys taking more time to recover than Jack, allowing the older man to slip out of the other. He smirked at the way Rhys' face scrunched up and fell at the loss, the sigh that left his lips. Jack took a long look at what he'd done, making note of the bruises and the bite mark - he thought one thing he could improve on was marking him up more next time. He smiled, thinking about Rhys having to hide the purpling bruises and blooming hickeys. _The limp in his step_. God, that'd always be his favorite. The little wince whenever he'd sit down. Definitely an honorable mention.

 

"You look good like this, Pumpkin." Jack grinned, still a little breathless. From the looks of it, so was Rhys. He ran a hand down the other's sweat slick spine, down to the swell of his ass, watching as some of his come seeped out and ran down the insides of Rhys' trembling legs. "Ruined. It's a good color on you." He finished with a gentle smack on the younger man's ass.

 

Apparently it wasn't as gentle as he thought because that's when Rhys' wobbly legs gave out. Jack, still uneasy on his feet himself, narrowly caught him by wrapping an arm around his middle. "Wo-o-ah, there, cupcake. Can't have you crashing on me now. Wouldn't want to mess up all that hard work I did," Jack teased jocularly, pulling Rhys up onto his feet. It didn't last long, though, he was falling again, but this time, thankfully, against Jack. Rhys let out a soft whimper, tired and spent, and his hands were clutching to find purchase somewhere - _anywhere_ \- on Jack. The older man's smug smirk softened into something a little more - dare he say it - _genuine_. A soft, slightly exasperated sigh left Jack. Instead of trying to set him up on his own again, he helped Rhys over to his desk seat, where he sat, smoothly pulling the other into his naked lap.

 

" _Jack_." Rhys mumbled, curling up against him. What a cuddle-bug.

 

"I know, Cupcake. I know," Jack crooned, arms wrapping around the other. Rhys buried his face in his chest, hand flat against his heated flesh. "Daddy's got you."

**Author's Note:**

> Now that you've made it this far, I hope that you're at least somewhat pleased? :)  
> If you have any thoughts, please don't _hesitate_ to leave me a comment!


End file.
